tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-92130916010652755842018-09-30T01:08:26.158-07:00Strongrrl: Life, with muscleStrongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.comBlogger295125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-49281262806236161582016-07-04T14:33:00.000-07:002016-07-04T02:34:46.993-07:00Lucky<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x4TOqMkkQ98/V3mCyj9U9sI/AAAAAAAAAHk/jIk54fGKaWEFFtA-svXQ0THGVXmj2DligCKgB/s1600/new%2Bdad%2Band%2Ba.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x4TOqMkkQ98/V3mCyj9U9sI/AAAAAAAAAHk/jIk54fGKaWEFFtA-svXQ0THGVXmj2DligCKgB/s400/new%2Bdad%2Band%2Ba.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />My father died 9 years ago, on July 4 2007.<br /><br />A few weeks before, he came up to Portland for Father's Day. I had taken Anna to a pottery painting place and had her smear paint around a tile for Dad. I don't remember the card I gave him. Given that I had a toddler, it probably wasn't much. But 9 days before he died I received this email form him:<br /><br /><blockquote style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;" type="cite"><div>On Jun 25, 2007, at 8:00 PM, Steven Rappaport <steven rappaport.com=""> wrote:</steven></div><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><div><span class="" style="display: inline !important; float: none;">I forgot to comment on one of the things you said on my Father's Day card: "We're really lucky to have this time together."</span><br /><br class="" /><span class="" style="display: inline !important; float: none;">I just want to agree, in spades, that we are REALLY lucky to have this time together -- because of Anna's majorly sweet age, because of the quality of our relationship, and because we both know that these opportunities won't last forever. One day they will be sweet memories, but for now they are reality, and it's great that we both appreciate that in real time.</span><br /><br class="" /><span class="" style="display: inline !important; float: none;">I love you, daughter.</span><br /><br class="" /><span class="" style="display: inline !important; float: none;">Dad</span></div></blockquote><div><span style="font-family: &quot;helvetica&quot;; font-size: 12px;"><br /></span></div><div>Be generous with your love. Remember that our time here is not guaranteed. The biggest gift my father gave me was letting me know that <i>he knew</i> how much I loved him before he died.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I love you, Dad.</div><div><br /></div><div>Steven Millman Rappaport</div><div>Dec 5, 1942 — July 4, 2007</div><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/a0Fvds9r2Fs" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com0http://blog.strongrrl.com/2016/07/lucky.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-31066931322096853412015-12-05T11:40:00.002-08:002015-12-05T11:40:35.077-08:00The Zeda Tree<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qg3_6n06mTY/VmM41vpKD3I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/WIzt8LKIKYw/s1600/IMG_2918.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qg3_6n06mTY/VmM41vpKD3I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/WIzt8LKIKYw/s320/IMG_2918.jpg" width="320" /></a><br /><br />Have I written about the Zeda Tree before? Honestly, I can't keep track anymore.<br /><br />Sometime after Dad died, I received a small, nondescript cardboard box containing half of Dad's ashes (the other half went his wife, Candyce). For a long time, I didn't know what to do with this box. It sat in my closet and from time to time I would forget what was in it and get a terrible surprise when I opened it up again.<br /><br />Anna didn't sleep very well as a baby and I spent countless hours sitting with her on the couch in the living room, watching the neighborhood wake up through the big picture window. One day as I was looking out, I noticed David in the yard digging a hole in which to plant a new Dogwood tree. Somehow I knew this was exactly where I needed Dad to be — close by; somewhere where I could glance out my window and be reminded of him daily.<br /><br />Over time, we've added some details: a stepping stone with Dad's name, fairy houses, dream catchers. The tree has thrived, growing almost as tall as the house in the past few years. Just this morning I watched as a dozen tiny birds flitted in and out of it before moving on to their next adventure.<br /><br />We call that tree the Zeda Tree, and it very much a part of our daily life. Today as I looked out my window wondering what to share about Dad on what would be his 73rd birthday, I saw the Zeda Tree and I knew.<br /><br />I love you, Dad. Thank you for always letting me know what story to tell when I don't think I've got any words left.<br /><br />Steven Millman Rappaport<br />December 5, 1942 – July 4, 2007<br /><br /><br /><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/Naroa9PRO-Q" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com1http://blog.strongrrl.com/2015/12/the-zeda-tree.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-80624623878115417662015-07-04T09:02:00.002-07:002015-07-04T09:02:46.951-07:00Growing Up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-e50VkD6qzc0/VZgCcEqnidI/AAAAAAAAAGo/OIhz0xs3JSg/s1600/IMG_2104.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="310" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-e50VkD6qzc0/VZgCcEqnidI/AAAAAAAAAGo/OIhz0xs3JSg/s400/IMG_2104.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">When I lost my dad, I lost the privilege of ever being able to be the child again. My father was my safe place, the grown-up I could turn to when I didn’t know the answer, or needed help, or advice.</span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">When I was in high school, I got pregnant. When my mother found out, she handled it in her typical manner — by physically backing me into a corner and screaming in my face. Fortunately, she then called my father, who’s first words to me were “Are you okay?” And though I wasn’t, he made it ok.</span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">In San Francisco many years later, David stepped on a dirty hypodermic needle and we found ourselves in the Emergency Room at 2am to get him on AZT. Once we were home and David was asleep, I spent the next few hours curled up on the floor of the bathroom crying because I thought my husband was going to die. At first light I called my Dad. I don’t remember what he said, just how much I needed him then and how relieved I felt to be able to talk to him then.</span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Years later still, David had to travel abroad for work just a few months after Anna was born. I was sleep deprived and overwhelmed. In the middle of the night the all of the smoke detectors in the house, which were connected electrically and could not be disabled, started their high-pitched beep every 60 seconds. Between a baby who was nursing every 2-3 hours and the stress of the shrill noise, I was a mess. Around 4am I emailed Dad telling him I was losing my mind. I can still feel the profound relief I felt when he called first thing that morning and said he was on his way.</span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">And, of course, there’s a flip side to this. Not only can he not comfort me, but there’s no one to be proud of me. To feel <i>nachas </i>when I succeed at something. My father doesn’t know I paint, or that his granddaughter is everything he would have hoped. He doesn’t know that everything is turning out ok.&nbsp;</span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Maybe this is a part of growing up that everyone experiences. I know that many of my friends’ parents are going through both physical and mental declines, and that the children are becoming the parents more and more. And, of course, eventually we all lose our parents.</span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div><br /><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 11px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Eight years ago today I was sitting on my couch holding a sick 2-year-old when the phone rang. David answered and then came to me and said it was bad news. I asked what kind of bad news, and he answered “the worst.” I have spent the past eight years avoiding July 4th. We have spent at least four of these years in other countries on that date, in part to get away from the celebration. But today is different. Today I am ready to spend the day with friends and family, barbecuing in our backyard. I will make a toast to Dad, thanking him for giving me all that he did for the 39 years I had with him. It still hurts, but I’m used to being the grown-up now.</span></div><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/ZL4yNz6uQis" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com0http://blog.strongrrl.com/2015/07/growing-up.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-4397316864280521682014-12-05T16:10:00.002-08:002014-12-05T16:10:52.137-08:00Another birthday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_D1VAwPuP3A/VIJHx1ramCI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/Nm8zPBC583E/s1600/IMG_0125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_D1VAwPuP3A/VIJHx1ramCI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/Nm8zPBC583E/s1600/IMG_0125.jpg" height="400" width="358" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Christmas, 2006: the last Christmas we spent with my dad.<br /><br />Usually I have so much to say when I write these posts, but today I find myself at a loss. I just wish my dad was here, as always. I miss him.<br /><br />Steven Millman Rappaport<br />Dec 5, 1942 – July 4, 2007<img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/LNSEqQjwKKw" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com2http://blog.strongrrl.com/2014/12/another-birthday.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-58835620568250152014-07-04T08:47:00.000-07:002014-07-04T08:47:12.202-07:00Magic Man<div style="text-align: left;"></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MRDMLQJTTlA/U7OSGqVJouI/AAAAAAAAAFE/LYc2nYAw_Xw/s1600/p_g11aghcc2y40393_g.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MRDMLQJTTlA/U7OSGqVJouI/AAAAAAAAAFE/LYc2nYAw_Xw/s1600/p_g11aghcc2y40393_g.jpg" height="400" width="315" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />How is it that I've never told the story of the purple room here?<br /><br />When I was a kid, my dad was a magic man. I think lots of people felt this way about him, but I have proof. I have the stories.<br /><br />Sometime around 1978 my father moved to a small, Oregon town called Pleasant Hill. He found a 5-bedroom log cabin on a few acres of land, the gravel driveway a mile long. The first time I visited the Pleasant Hill house, the room that would be mine was empty save for a hideous, wall-to-wall, red shag carpet. Also living in this house were my dad's then-girlfriend; her ancient, very hostile cat; and a lesbian couple running a graphic design business called Laughing Giraffe. For reasons that will always remain a mystery, the red shag carpet in my room was where the cat chose to shit.<br /><br />While spending that first weekend in the house, my father asked me one of his “blue-sky” questions. Those questions turned out to be a constant part of our relationship over the years, but I didn't know that then. “What would your dream bedroom look like?” “Purple,” I told him.<br /><br />Throughout my childhood I flew between my parents every 6-weeks, or whenever there was a school holiday, whichever came first. The next time I visited my dad, the first question out of my mouth was “Did you have a chance to do anything to my room?" And in perfect Steven fashion he explained that yes, in fact, he had. He went on to describe how he'd had a clear, plastic mat laid down over the entire carpet so that while you could still see the shit, you wouldn't step in it. Ever wonder where I learned to be such a damn smart-ass?<br /><br />When we arrived at the house, my bedroom door was closed. Opening it, I cried tears of happiness for the first time in my life. A tricolor purple carpet replaced the ugly, red one. A white canopy bed had a beautiful dark purple spread, with a gauzy lavender canopy covered in tiny purple flowers. The sliding-glass doors were covered by curtains made of the same fabric. All the bedding had been handmade by a local woman who seemed to be to be 100 years old (she also made the amazing, quailed hippie vests and skirts that my dad bought me over the years). The walls were painted lavender and sitting in front of one of them was an unfinished, wooden dollhouse for me to paint.<br /><br />There are so many stories like this about my dad and I want to be clear — this is not about money. It wasn't that he spent money to give me this room. It was that he <i>heard</i> me. He paid attention to the things I told him about myself and he did what he could to make my (and many other people's) blue-sky dreams a little closer to reality. <i>That</i> was the magic.<br /><br />I love you, Dad. Thank you.<br /><br />Steven Millman Rappaport<br />Dec. 5, 1942 – July 4, 2007<br /><br /><br /><i>Note: Sadly, there are no photos of the purple room. The above photo was taken in the Pleasant Hill house around the same time as this story takes place. We are shown here dressed in our finest 1970s polyester and corduroy.&nbsp;</i><br /><i><br /></i><br /><br /><br /><br /><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/EKpCRx_HsR4" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com1http://blog.strongrrl.com/2014/07/magic-man.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-20680842609779252522014-02-17T20:22:00.002-08:002014-02-17T20:22:51.714-08:00For Papa<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Gsyu-B085zY/UwLdoyu-RxI/AAAAAAAAAEY/wsHA2gWa-KI/s1600/p_g11aghcc2y40251.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Gsyu-B085zY/UwLdoyu-RxI/AAAAAAAAAEY/wsHA2gWa-KI/s1600/p_g11aghcc2y40251.jpg" height="270" width="400" /></a></div><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">When I was a little girl, I would climb into my grandfather’s lap, get right in his face, and say “I love you, Papa Artie”. He was a man’s man: a card-playing, Sinatra-singing, tough guy with a heart of gold. Inside he was a pussycat, but not many people called him out in that way.</span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“I love you, Papa Artie”, I’d say. And he’d grumble something under his breath and give me a punch in the arm, or a slap on the back.</span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Many years ago I was visiting my grandparents in New York. We were walking around in the City, my grandparents side-by-side. For some reason I noticed my grandfather drop back one step and cut around to the other side of my grandmother. It wasn’t until after he had done that that I noticed the guys standing on the corner up ahead. My grandfather had silently put himself between her and them. I don’t know if she ever even noticed, but I did and it stayed with me.</span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“I love you, Papa Artie”, I’d say. And over time he’d say, “Me too.”</span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">When my grandfather turned 75, my grandmother threw him a surprise party. There were loads of old friends and family, all gathered in their home. This was in the late nineties, years before tragedy struck and robbed them of everything. During the party I went into their guest room to get something from my suitcase, and I saw an envelope tucked in the side, not meant to be found until I’d gotten back home. In it was a note from my grandfather saying that even with all his old friends there, what meant the most to him was that David and I had come.</span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“I love you, Papa Artie”, I’d say. And finally he’d say, “I love you, too.”</span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">A few days ago my grandfather fell, hit his head, and never regained consciousness. I was there for one of his first bad falls, over 10 years ago now.There have been many falls since then; many heartbreaks; too many indignities to count. Time hasn’t been kind to my grandparents. I wasn’t there this time; in fact, I didn’t even know about it until a few days later when I was told he was being moved to hospice care. Each day, I spoke to my grandfather on the phone. I told him stories of our life together; of when he taught me to dive, or when he sang to me at my wedding (an amazing, a cappella version of <i>Because God Made Thee Mine</i> that brought the house down). And then I sang to him; <i>High Hopes</i>, many first verses of Beatles songs, lullabies. I’m told that on the last day of his life, when his breathing was shallow and fast, it slowed from 28 beats-per-minute to 22 while I was on the phone with him.</span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">By the time I was in my 30s, my grandfather had gotten so used to saying I love you to me that sometimes he’d even say it first.</span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;"><br /><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span></div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">These past few days I’ve had a lot of time to think, and what I’ve come to is this: I loved my grandfather completely and he knew it. And he loved me right back. We knew exactly who we were to each other, and that is an amazing gift.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LQFAXTQdl7Y/UwLcYZ4hhAI/AAAAAAAAAD8/kYjUJ88ZJ9M/s1600/p_g11aghcc2y40195.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LQFAXTQdl7Y/UwLcYZ4hhAI/AAAAAAAAAD8/kYjUJ88ZJ9M/s1600/p_g11aghcc2y40195.jpg" height="317" width="400" /></a></div><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xyrUfmhX8vw/UwLdeMTre0I/AAAAAAAAAEI/O2o0MBdPh70/s1600/p_g11aghcc2y40254.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xyrUfmhX8vw/UwLdeMTre0I/AAAAAAAAAEI/O2o0MBdPh70/s1600/p_g11aghcc2y40254.jpg" height="262" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CPE6Uboj0TA/UwLf52TmCoI/AAAAAAAAAEg/3xhccdm54Qo/s1600/n_g11aghcc2y40498.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-CPE6Uboj0TA/UwLf52TmCoI/AAAAAAAAAEg/3xhccdm54Qo/s1600/n_g11aghcc2y40498.jpg" height="265" width="400" /></a></div><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/Y5-NEA2qwT8" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com2http://blog.strongrrl.com/2014/02/for-papa.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-77995480656528444562013-12-05T07:50:00.001-08:002013-12-05T07:50:30.944-08:00Thirteen (for Dad)<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;">Ring the bells that still can ring</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;">Forget your perfect offering</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;">There is a crack, a crack in everything</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 17px;">That's how the light gets in</span></span></i><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">—Leonard Cohen</span></span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">Weird how things show up in your life just when you're in the right place to receive them.</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">I've been thinking the past few days about this blog post, the 13th in remembrance of my dad since he died (every December 5 and July 4 since 2007). I've been feeling pissed off at him. Pissed that he's not here, seeing my beautiful daughter grow up. Pissed that he's not here, seeing me rediscover myself as a artist. Pissed that he's not here.</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px;">And then tonight, as Anna was practicing piano on Dad's keyboard underneath his gold record, I looked at her fingers and&nbsp;</span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">remembered how he looked at her fingers after she was born and noted with pride that they were long. Good piano-playing fingers.</span></span><br /><span style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span><span style="color: #333333; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 17px;">And then within the hour, I saw this quote online. I'm not a big Leonard Cohen fan and I'd never heard the song, but I saw the quote and immediately knew it was speaking to me of Dad. I knew it was again time to see the cracks for what they are, the way to let the light back in.</span></span><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/RsZE9Ux9jKE" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com0http://blog.strongrrl.com/2013/12/thirteen-for-dad.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-57834787908446677662013-11-06T23:16:00.001-08:002013-11-06T23:16:48.725-08:00IronyMany, many moons ago, sometime around 1989, I was standing in the parking lot of the DNA Lounge in San Francisco. It was chilly out, and I was dressed in a miniskirt, bra and blazer because you know, why not? I was with a friend, waiting to go in to the club, and I said I was cold. Just then two guys walked by and heard my complaint. With no hesitation one of them offered the following bit of advice: "Then put some clothes on!"<br /><br />Honestly, I thought that wasn't an unreasonable suggestion and I also thought he was a total dweeb because, really, who in their right mind would tell me to put some clothes <i>on</i>?!<br /><br />The irony is not lost on me then, that as I watched the Miley Cyrus video for “Wrecking Ball” I turned to David and said “She's sad because she forgot her pants.” I'm not a Miley fan — until last night I'd honestly never heard her music —but I had heard about the fuss over the video (in which she rides naked on a wrecking ball and licks hammers and shit).<br /><br />Anyway, I could go into a whole thing about my take on the video and my delight at <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NLtmauJLP-A" target="_blank">this spot-on parody</a>, but really, that's not why I'm writing this.<br /><br />I guess I'm writing this because I've finally realized that growing up means knowing when to keep your clothes on (and, of course, when to take them off).<img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/ok6Djmdn20s" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com0http://blog.strongrrl.com/2013/11/irony.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-70816018052356110892013-08-23T08:34:00.001-07:002013-08-23T08:34:55.146-07:00Pont du Gard<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9575167709/" title="IMG_5098 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_5098" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5508/9575167709_ab5b9f3d97.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9575169257/" title="IMG_5107 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_5107" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3679/9575169257_aba3aeb7e0.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br />For our last little adventure this summer we took a day trip to Pont du Gard. Built in the 1st century AD, Pont du Gard is the highest Roman aqueduct bridge and was made a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1985. All summer long the various Roman sites we've seen have just boggled my mind. Honestly, I don't know enough about engineering to know how one would go about constructing an aqueduct today, but the thought that it was being done with the resources available 2000 years ago floors me. It's worth checking out the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pont_du_gard" target="_blank">Wikipedia page</a> on this if you're interested.<br /><br />There were several bonuses at this site, including an indoor area for kids to learn a bit about archaeology, water collection and disbursement, and life in Roman times. An additional bonus, which we knew about ahead of time, was that you can swim in the Gardon River, just below the aqueduct. The water is frigid, but it feels great after hiking up and down the&nbsp;surrounding&nbsp;hills. And like all good Roman sites, there was ice cream available.<br /><br />A side note: I do believe I've eaten more ice cream this summer than in the previous few years combined. I <i>know</i> that Anna's eaten more than she's had in the rest of her life! It's amazing how certain practices go out the window when the temperature is above 90.<i> Every. Single. Day.</i><br /><i><br /></i><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9575148389/" title="IMG_5026 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_5026" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7405/9575148389_7ed233c9db.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9575150063/" title="IMG_5028 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_5028" height="375" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2805/9575150063_642fea80f5.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9575153233/" title="IMG_5037 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_5037" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7306/9575153233_9ba16f7293.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9577950744/" title="IMG_5045 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_5045" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7315/9577950744_6d9f13f107.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9575151647/" title="IMG_5032 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_5032" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5491/9575151647_7803a28ccd.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9575160017/" title="IMG_5058 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_5058" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5330/9575160017_c411384cda.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9577952518/" title="IMG_5051 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_5051" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5455/9577952518_e369a335f5.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9575166083/" title="IMG_5091 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_5091" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3701/9575166083_a0866917f6.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9575161415/" title="IMG_5064 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_5064" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7340/9575161415_460ca92fc5.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9575163019/" title="IMG_5079 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_5079" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7418/9575163019_c60b62dd48.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9575164703/" title="IMG_5080 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_5080" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3749/9575164703_6aa560605f.jpg" width="375" /></a><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/47y1koj3zNQ" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com2http://blog.strongrrl.com/2013/08/pont-du-gard.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-4893638801170509162013-08-21T12:12:00.000-07:002013-08-21T12:12:06.100-07:00Versailles<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9563142279/" title="IMG_5014 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_5014" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3790/9563142279_74ba484750.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br />For a while now we've been promising Anna that one day we'd take her to a real castle. Last year we talked about going to Versailles, but never made it. We intended to take her to Buckingham Palace, but didn't count on it being sold out days in advance. So with the determination required to brave the crowds, we finally made it to Versailles.<br /><br />We were lucky to get a day that wasn't too hot, though after many, many hours of crowds and lines and walking David and I felt like we'd been through a battle. That said, you can't deny the beauty of the place, especially the enormous grounds. The sheer number of fountains is amazing, each with a different size, shape and theme. Time and time again a blind turn in the gardens would reveal some beautiful surprise.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9544345283/" title="IMG_4861 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4861" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3779/9544345283_b1a981cca7.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />Inside the chapel (which is inside the Palace).<br /><div><br /></div><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9563132837/" title="IMG_4866 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4866" height="500" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5323/9563132837_9c9c33915d.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9547139890/" title="IMG_4887 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4887" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3709/9547139890_0f52519e32.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />One of hundreds of chandeliers in the infamous Hall of Mirrors.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9563134535/" title="IMG_4881 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4881" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3690/9563134535_b9285940b7.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9544347979/" title="IMG_4873 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4873" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5474/9544347979_fa57f64145.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />A bedroom fit for a queen.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9544351397/" title="IMG_4912 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4912" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7409/9544351397_68954efcfa.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />A detail from a painting of the coronation Empress Josephine.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9544352761/" title="IMG_4915 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4915" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7367/9544352761_396eba5143.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9565928048/" title="IMG_4908 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4908" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7382/9565928048_9e0b1da87d.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9547144486/" title="IMG_4959 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4959" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7438/9547144486_1cbd7d41a7.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9544355807/" title="IMG_4975 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4975" height="375" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2856/9544355807_ae51e1acf6.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />View from the Grande Trinon.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9565931284/" title="IMG_4920 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4920" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3783/9565931284_d459021cdb.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9563140851/" title="IMG_5000 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_5000" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7293/9563140851_ede8b68116.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9544357087/" title="IMG_4991 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4991" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3694/9544357087_67a391f503.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />One of the hundred of statues in the main gardens. I took a particular liking to her.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9563137969/" title="IMG_4918 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4918" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7306/9563137969_f717959db8.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9547148720/" title="IMG_5011 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_5011" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7348/9547148720_8bef68ef59.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/8WkxBs0n-K4" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com1http://blog.strongrrl.com/2013/08/versailles.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-72077159000653875522013-08-19T06:15:00.002-07:002013-08-19T06:15:43.815-07:00A little London, a little Paris<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9544400801/" title="IMG_4695 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4695" height="259" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3754/9544400801_c70c4f5a56.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">One of the weird, wonderful paintings at the Tate Britain.</span><br /><br />The past week or two have come and gone, and I just haven't gotten around to posting. In London, we were crazy busy the entire week. It was great to see so many new things, but it was also exhausting and we got pretty burned out. By the time we arrived in Paris, we had lost most of the energy for sightseeing and mainly just hung out with friends (there was one major exception, which I'll post about next time!).<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9489270358/" title="IMG_4727 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4727" height="500" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2886/9489270358_3d50491a0b.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />One of the beautiful horses at the Royal Mews (the stables for Buckingham Palace).<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9489289632/" title="IMG_4739 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4739" height="500" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5508/9489289632_00a144f1ae.jpg" width="383" /></a><br />Waiting patiently for 4:00 tea at a London Tea shop.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9486514859/" title="IMG_4740 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4740" height="421" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5536/9486514859_85c031981e.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />Approved!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9486544319/" title="IMG_4754 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4754" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5467/9486544319_52496e7e6d.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9489246854/" title="IMG_4701 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4701" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7304/9489246854_173eef3a56.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />A small painting by John Singer Sargent at the Tate Britain. He's my latest obsession (what can I say? I am <i>very</i> behind the times!)<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9544336557/" title="IMG_4796 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4796" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7345/9544336557_99439d10b3.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />In Paris, we took our friends to a few of our favorite haunts. This is by the Nikki de Saint-Phalle fountain outside the Centre Pompidou.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9547128936/" title="IMG_4797 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4797" height="500" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2841/9547128936_620d329d24.jpg" width="356" /></a><br />Heading to the Tuilleries by way of the the courtyard at the Louvre.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9547130832/" title="IMG_4810 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4810" height="500" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5508/9547130832_e2caccc891.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9547132902/" title="IMG_4826 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4826" height="375" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2866/9547132902_652e05896f.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />Flying high at the Tuilleries.<img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/Bs7PcE3IIxI" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com0http://blog.strongrrl.com/2013/08/a-little-london-little-paris.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-32797108662504682852013-08-11T13:43:00.001-07:002013-08-11T13:43:24.838-07:00London: part 1<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9475848426/" title="IMG_4569 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4569" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3772/9475848426_bd63d60e72.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">The beautiful, enormous Museum of Natural History (which we did NOT make it into).</span><br /><br />Ohmygosh London is big! BIG! So big that despite my best intentions, there is just no way we're going to be able to see many of the things I had hoped we'd get to. Some of it is due to crowds (The Natural History Museum, Buckingham Palace) and some of it is due to the sheer enormity of the places we do get to (the Science Museum, the Victoria &amp; Albert Museum).<br /><br />Here's a look at some highlights from days 1-3:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9475844932/" title="IMG_4568 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4568" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3726/9475844932_4b77be928f.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />Little Miss, setting out for our first day’s adventure. She’s in front of our lovely, if somewhat inconveniently located Airbnb flat in Kensal Green.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9473061191/" title="IMG_4572 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4572" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7343/9473061191_bbc61d6c69.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />At the Science Museum, a model of a Rolls Royce Silver Cloud (with an airplane suspended behind it).<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9475852844/" title="IMG_4578 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4578" height="375" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2870/9475852844_48e496ca0a.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />For the geeks among you :-)<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9473068079/" title="IMG_4590 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4590" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5545/9473068079_25e4fa715b.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />A small portion of an elaborate monument to Prince Albert, in Kennsington Gardens.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9473071373/" title="IMG_4594 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4594" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7298/9473071373_c555b116b4.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />In Kennsington Gardens<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9473073625/" title="IMG_4622 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4622" height="375" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2875/9473073625_cce953d99d.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />After a walk along the Thames, we stopped to admire Tower Bridge.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9475866396/" title="IMG_4651 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4651" height="500" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2832/9475866396_87a7da22fe.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />The Victoria &amp; Albert Museum has the most amazing program for kids. For an hour at a time, they can check out themed backpacks full of information and materials that introduce them to works within the museum. Anna did this for eight hours one day and went back for more the following afternoon! Far and a way her favorite was the Architecture bag, which happens to be the newest addition to the program.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9475868980/" title="IMG_4657 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4657" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7413/9475868980_f7c21bf643.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />The view from the V&amp;A courtyard, where we spent an hour sitting in the grass visiting with some Portland friends who happened to be in London at the same time.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9473081503/" title="IMG_4666 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4666" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3813/9473081503_bfc5d09f35.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />We wandered from the V&amp;A to a perfect little Indian restaurant.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9486294871/" title="IMG_4670 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4670" height="500" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5519/9486294871_488edb212a.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />The next day we spent time at the Transport Museum, which has great displays of various trains, buses, and cabs from throughout London's history. I just loved the mannequins in this one!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9486342461/" title="IMG_4671 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4671" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7335/9486342461_5477f4a697.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />And a close up.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9486371541/" title="IMG_4680 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4680" height="397" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7301/9486371541_6456c99988.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />In honor of the 150th anniversary of the Underground, the Transport Museum was displaying many of it's historical posters. This was one of my favorites (from 1938), though there were lots of great ones.<br /><br /><br /><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/sEzEfXidM4Y" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com0http://blog.strongrrl.com/2013/08/london-part-1.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-25344139254558664942013-08-06T23:51:00.001-07:002013-08-06T23:51:27.031-07:00Aix with friends<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9457356552/" title="IMG_4530 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4530" height="500" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2857/9457356552_730e8c656b.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br />Last year in Rouen we met a family with whom we became fast friends: Rebecca, a transplant from Oakland, California, Eric, originally from Aix-en-Provance, and their then 2-year-old daughter, Emanuelle. They were a lifeline for us in Rouen and we were thrilled when we heard they'd be in Aix this summer, with their 5-week-old son, Issac.<br /><br />Since they have a newborn, we mostly stayed close to home, though Eric led us on a brief tour of the older part of Aix (as a local, he was appalled by the newer, trendier side). The rest of the day was spent playing in the beautiful pool and eating (of course). Eric introduced us to a local specialty, <i>La Tropezienne</i>, a custard-like cake that I'm still thinking about. It was definitely one of the best cakes I've ever tasted.<br /><br />The following day, David, Anna, and I went to see the other half of L'Atelier du Midi at the Granet Museum. This summer has been an interesting art experience for me. Though I've been chasing my familiar favorite 20th-century-modern masters, it's been a few artists who were unknown to me that caught my attention. I've got a list of names to research when we get home, including Emile Othon Friesz, Raoul Dufy (whose name I knew, but not really his work), and Henri-Charles Manguin.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9457364798/" title="IMG_4553 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4553" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3812/9457364798_d13f757441.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9454580775/" title="IMG_4551 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4551" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5477/9454580775_a14a259825.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9457359810/" title="IMG_4533 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4533" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3803/9457359810_0d043fff43.jpg" width="383" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9457366918/" title="IMG_4558 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4558" height="500" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5334/9457366918_a1d68b785d.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9454587625/" title="IMG_4560 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4560" height="500" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5521/9454587625_b4a1de796f.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9454573107/" title="IMG_4524 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4524" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7352/9454573107_56dd713cdb.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9454566211/" title="IMG_4486 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4486" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3677/9454566211_a283fa9921.jpg" width="355" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9457341080/" title="IMG_4473 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4473" height="500" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2880/9457341080_55d5fb01b0.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9454589649/" title="IMG_4566 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4566" height="500" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5350/9454589649_c2bb032848.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9457351602/" title="IMG_4503 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4503" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7316/9457351602_f1ca98350f.jpg" width="349" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9454568719/" title="IMG_4493 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4493" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3773/9454568719_b62fdcfda6.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9454564047/" title="IMG_4483 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4483" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5487/9454564047_db0f7157dd.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9454562039/" title="IMG_4476 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4476" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3808/9454562039_c813dc9fe3.jpg" width="458" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/VBMk-c1WuCw" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com0http://blog.strongrrl.com/2013/08/aix-with-friends.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-33594715877015338032013-08-01T12:05:00.000-07:002013-08-01T12:05:43.692-07:00Friends, Marseille, and a new plan<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9415253631/" title="IMG_4445 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4445" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5527/9415253631_36305a56dc.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />The beautiful Musée Des Beaux Arts in Marseille.<br /><br />This past week our friends from Paris came to visit. I've written about Curtis, Leila, and Lily-Rose before (<a href="http://blog.strongrrl.com/2012/07/friends-food-and-bit-of-frustration.html" target="_blank">here</a> and&nbsp;<a href="http://blog.strongrrl.com/2012/07/paris-in-july.html" target="_blank">here</a>). This week was a mix of business and pleasure (Curtis and Leila have just launched a <a href="http://www.allaroundtheworld.fr/" target="_blank">new business</a>). In addition to introducing them to Arles (and our monster mosquitos), we fit in a trip to the beach and a day in Marseille to see one half of the Modern Art exhibition <a href="http://blog.strongrrl.com/2012/07/paris-in-july.html" target="_blank">Le Grand Atelier du Midi</a> (David, Anna, and I will see the second half in Aix-en-Provence this Saturday).<br /><br />Here are a few highlights:<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9415250423/" title="IMG_4441 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4441" height="500" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2876/9415250423_17e77ee2cb.jpg" width="456" /></a><br />Waiting for the train.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9418018526/" title="IMG_4443 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4443" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3797/9418018526_00cf80f22d.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />More of the Musée.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9418021678/" title="IMG_4446 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4446" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7305/9418021678_720e3db652.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />Stairwell at the Musée des Beaux Arts.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9415256663/" title="IMG_4457 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4457" height="375" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2823/9415256663_59ed2e5160.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />The port of Marseille. Approximately 110 years ago my great-grandfather (Paul Rappaport, age 8) boarded a ship headed to Pennsylvania&nbsp;from this port.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9415258823/" title="IMG_4467 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4467" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7375/9415258823_85a665eb4b.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9418013186/" title="IMG_1939 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_1939" height="500" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5540/9418013186_7820889c81.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />In Arles, at the Espace Van Gogh.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9418015378/" title="IMG_1944 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_1944" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7376/9418015378_7d91735a0c.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9418033706/" title="IMG_1951 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_1951" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3756/9418033706_8754e4b296.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />Looking up, at Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer.<br /><br />As for our new plan, we're ready for some big city action (and more art, of course!) so we're headed to London for a week. I was only briefly there 25 years ago, and David's never been, so we're really excited. All the new museums!! (ok, that part may just be me!)&nbsp;From there, we're going to take the Eurostar to Paris and stay in Curtis and Leila's apartment while they're traveling. One thing we've learned from this house-swap is that we're much happier in a city. Next time!<br /><br /><br /><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/yQhjfsHW0Ng" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com0http://blog.strongrrl.com/2013/08/friends-marseille-and-new-plan.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-65135662324036233622013-07-26T04:11:00.001-07:002013-07-26T04:11:19.536-07:00Les Baux-de-Provence<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9365956759/" title="IMG_4344 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4344" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7303/9365956759_4bf1d5b56d.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">The village seen from the castle ruins</span><br /><br />Last week we took a short drive to Les Baux, the site of a now-ruined castle perched on top of the rocky Alpilles mountains. The area was inhabited by the Celts around the 2nd century BC and was the seat of a feudal lordship in the Middle Ages. The castle has a really rich, varied history, ending with it's destruction ordered by Cardinal Richelieu in 1632&nbsp;(all this from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Les_Baux-de-Provence" target="_blank">the wikipedia site</a>, if you are dying to know more).<br /><br />We were with our friends from Portland, and the girls were real troopers. It is a huge site, and it was a bloody hot day, so we even though we were there for hours, we only saw a fraction of the ruins.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9365948483/" title="IMG_4322 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4322" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7351/9365948483_496d4a4a31.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9365950463/" title="IMG_4332 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4332" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7386/9365950463_3df30ed367.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9368732726/" title="IMG_4335 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4335" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5455/9368732726_1666a08ba2.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9368724704/" title="IMG_4303 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4303" height="375" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2832/9368724704_76ab001835.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9365947487/" title="IMG_4305 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4305" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5444/9365947487_c6d95eedc7.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9368736594/" title="IMG_4345 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4345" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3833/9368736594_8e83ddae21.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9365955555/" title="IMG_4337 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4337" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3676/9365955555_99b56ec193.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><br />The highlight of the day, at least for me, was a trip down the hill from the castle to Les Carrières de Lumières, the site of a former rock quarry that has been turned into an amazing sound and light show. Apparently the show changes annually — we were lucky enough to catch one featuring Monet, Renior and Chagall, although many other artists were represented. Imagine walking into a massive rocky quarry, with walls 40-feet high, and rooms hundreds of feet long. You're in total darkness for a moment. Then, one by one, the walls around you are covered with art. The art is constantly changing though, in time with the music that's also filling the space. You are free to roam around the space, every moment a new discovery. We stayed for at least an hour, and had the pleasure of discovering a 2-minute-long bonus show with images from nature starting with a storm in the quarry and ending with a trip through space. The whole thing was fabulous.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9368737812/" title="IMG_4359 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4359" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5463/9368737812_227233d4a2.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9368738954/" title="IMG_4363 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4363" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3711/9368738954_7ae4924122.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Can you see Anna spinning Mattea around in the foreground? The girls began dancing to the classical music the minute we entered the quarry.</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9368740068/" title="IMG_4366 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4366" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5456/9368740068_6e24e44979.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9368748510/" title="IMG_4410 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4410" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5513/9368748510_a7d8ce2f33.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9365967393/" title="IMG_4392 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4392" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7410/9365967393_c4c752b635.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Anna and David become part of the art.</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9368747054/" title="IMG_4405 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4405" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7379/9368747054_c1a90db878.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">In some cases the projections went along the floor as well.</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9368743086/" title="IMG_4381 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4381" height="500" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5344/9368743086_afc848ff56.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9368744046/" title="IMG_4384 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4384" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7382/9368744046_74d18e75ff.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">The walls “filled up” with water starting at the bottom. Here we are surrounded by floating jellies.</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9365971039/" title="IMG_4414 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4414" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5532/9365971039_7e98ce5f6d.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9368744938/" title="IMG_4389 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4389" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5511/9368744938_2a893db24f.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9368750502/" title="IMG_4428 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4428" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7389/9368750502_13dba6280a.jpg" width="500" /></a><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/4M-m_oMcZXw" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com2http://blog.strongrrl.com/2013/07/les-baux-de-provence.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-24549075718734405742013-07-21T01:28:00.001-07:002013-07-21T01:28:14.161-07:00Sketching<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9333781276/" title="IMG_4283 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4283" height="337" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5505/9333781276_be86fa2478.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Last year when we came to France I brought tons of art supplies, most of which sat untouched all summer. This year I decided to keep it simple; I brought a small sketchbook and a few pencils and it's been a revelation. I sketch everywhere: in museums, in parks, but especially at the beach. Having really only ever drawn models who stay still for many minutes, I had no idea how much people really move around. I'll start in on a sketch and a few seconds later, the pose is gone.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9330991973/" title="IMG_4284 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4284" height="356" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5532/9330991973_5257482527.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9330995019/" title="IMG_4285 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4285" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7398/9330995019_d6d8835d6b.jpg" width="307" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9333790340/" title="IMG_4286 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4286" height="500" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5325/9333790340_bf9301eb05.jpg" width="351" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9333793630/" title="IMG_4287 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4287" height="303" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7396/9333793630_dc69da7e56.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9331004997/" title="IMG_4288 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4288" height="500" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5332/9331004997_5a647579e9.jpg" width="262" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9333799934/" title="IMG_4289 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4289" height="357" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2882/9333799934_7c1fa33545.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9331011835/" title="IMG_4290 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4290" height="327" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2854/9331011835_75039a9f80.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9333806356/" title="IMG_4291 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4291" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3819/9333806356_71e1f73c5d.jpg" width="322" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9333809682/" title="IMG_4292 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4292" height="303" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7377/9333809682_d645770f9e.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9331020707/" title="IMG_4294 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4294" height="271" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2858/9331020707_a45d8ffc30.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/wgWfgIkdc3I" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com0http://blog.strongrrl.com/2013/07/sketching.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-62505188275099349542013-07-17T14:25:00.000-07:002013-07-18T14:41:25.747-07:00The not-so-pretty parts of my dayOk, let's start right off by saying I have no right to complain. I am in the South of France, and I am damn lucky to be here. I know that, you know that. So let's not consider this a complaint, just a balancing of the scales. I have shown you beautiful art, beautiful architecture, beautiful beaches. Now I'm telling you about the other part of my days. This is the underbelly of my days; the part I try to ignore, to suck up, because how lucky am I to be here.<br /><br />But…<br /><br />There are just a few things. Like the fact that I literally cannot walk the 10 feet from the house to the laundry line without getting several large, French mosquito bites. At any given time I seem to have about 8 of them. The interesting thing about French mosquitos (les moustiques) ls that although they are fast as hell and apparently really fucking hungry, the bites (on me) fade away after a few hours. I can't say the same for Anna, but I'm not sure if that because she scratches at them more or if she's just more of a delicate flower than I.<br /><br />Also, this:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theory/9304300121/" title="Hey little guy! by Theory, on Flickr"><img alt="Hey little guy!" height="302" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7440/9304300121_f78a688652_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br /><br />That guy was crawling across our living room floor this morning. A long, long time ago, a lifetime ago, I went on an archaeological dig in Israel and from time to time, we would encounter scorpions. In fact, compared to Israel the bugs in France are puny, so really I should shut the hell up right now. But time has gone by, and I have become wimpy in my old(er) age. I do not enjoy sharing my home with scorpions, and I certainly do not enjoy sharing my daughter with them (delicious though she may be).<br /><br />In all honesty, I have other complaints. I will just fess up to that now, list them here and be done with it:<br /><br />• We cannot walk anywhere from where we are staying. This is because there are no sidewalks, not even a shoulder, and the road is full of crazy French drivers whipping around curves haphazardly. The good news is there is a bus very close by that takes us right into town. The bad news is the bus stops running at 7pm.<br /><br />• It's hot. I know! It's the South of France, what did I expect anyway!? I'm just sayin', it's hot, and if you open a window, 7000 moustiques move in and basically own the place.<br /><br />• There is not much art here. There was. In fact, there were 57 Picassos here that I was very much looking forward to looking at for the 2 months that we're here. But instead, there is a temporary exhibit called Nuages (Clouds) and all 57 Picassos have been taken down. Ok, I said, after I stopped twitching. Perhaps we should give it a chance. Here's where they lost me: The peanut mounted in such a way that it's cast shadow resembled a cloud. 57 Picassos. 57. Ok, yeah. I'm still twitching.<br /><br />Okay, okay. I know. You're hot too, and your mosquitos are even worse. You've had scorpions sharing your bed for ages now and you just roll over and flick them out.It's true, I'm whinging and its boring. I'll stop now. I'll go drink my cheap, good wine and eat my cheap, good cheese. I'll plan my next trip to the Mediterranean and get over myself. Just as soon as I stop twitching (and scratching!).<img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/FTns9_Dn8t4" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com1http://blog.strongrrl.com/2013/07/the-not-so-pretty-parts-of-my-day.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-60348876628820550382013-07-15T13:24:00.000-07:002013-07-15T13:25:05.234-07:00Nice: the restWell, somehow days 3-6 went by in a whirlwind of art and sun and mosquitos and ice cream. Here are a few pics which capture the days:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9295188076/" title="IMG_1911 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_1911" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5337/9295188076_c00613964d.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />A trip to the Picasso Museum in Antibes, to see the art where it was created. Picasso actually lived and worked in the Chateau Grimaldi (which later became the Picasso Museum) in 1946 and he and his family subsequently the donated many of the works there.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9292407551/" title="IMG_1902 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_1902" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3690/9292407551_cc93d62c7f.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />The beach in Antibes, which thankfully has tiny stones instead of giant ones like the beaches in Nice.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9292405785/" title="IMG_1900 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_1900" height="359" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3687/9292405785_7f1f885a7e.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />Anna and I have been doing a lot of drawing, and she has started writing a story as well. The first installment is finished and will be posted on her blog soon. It's truly adorable. (ok, I admit to bias!)<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9295190792/" title="IMG_4099 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4099" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3722/9295190792_18a15b4987.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />A Calder at the Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art in Nice. I have to say, it was more contemporary than modern, and mostly just not my thing. I forgive Nice this museum, since they have so many others that I loved!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9295192362/" title="IMG_4116 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4116" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5542/9295192362_d19e6e0489.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />The anti-hovel. After four nights in a tiny, boiling, mosquito-infested hovel, I found this place on Airbnb for our last 2 nights. After 2 nights there, I've almost stopped twitching.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9292415019/" title="IMG_4150 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4150" height="375" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2878/9292415019_1d0c3ff593.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />What you do when you can't build a sand castle. We were really surprised to discover that the beaches in Nice have no sand. Instead they have giant, foot-bruising, ankle-twisting stones. Fortunately for us, we all had Tevas, so we just walked right across the stones and into the Sea.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9292416135/" title="IMG_4175 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4175" height="500" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5327/9292416135_9ba5954a43.jpg" width="364" /></a><br />Our last night in Nice was Bastille Day, so at 10pm we headed to the beach for the big show. It was Anna's first time seeing fireworks. They didn't disappoint.<img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/_CV24olC3Kw" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com1http://blog.strongrrl.com/2013/07/nice-rest.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-24427869097538629852013-07-12T13:44:00.001-07:002013-07-12T13:52:03.842-07:00Nice, day 2<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9269542935/" title="IMG_4063 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4063" height="465" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2885/9269542935_a2f42f2a53.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Our time here in Nice is jam-packed, but it a really good way. We get up and out of our Airbnb flat (which I've taken to calling “The Hovel”) early and spend the entire day sight-seeing.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9269526245/" title="IMG_4023 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4023" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3668/9269526245_ccdc8f4423.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Day 2 started with a walk to <a href="http://www.confiserieflorian.com/" target="_blank">Confiscerie Florian</a>, a candy-maker since the 1940s where they still hand pick and preserve fruits and flowers from the region. We had no idea what to expect, but ended up with a private tour where the entire process was explained to us, after which we could taste almost anything we wanted. It was amazing and we left with a small box of candied vervain (the green candy in the photo — a sort of minty flavor that's hard to describe) and a jar of rose preserves.<br /><br />From there we headed up the 345-or-so steps to the <a href="http://en.nicetourisme.com/things-to-do/92" target="_blank">Colline du Chateau</a>, a former citadel and park, with a man-made 17-th century waterfall and amazing, panoramic views of the coastline.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9272316286/" title="IMG_4043 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4043" height="500" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2882/9272316286_ec667cff37.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9272318022/" title="IMG_4047 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4047" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3795/9272318022_edc849365c.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9272314934/" title="IMG_4042 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4042" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7394/9272314934_2aaf5feaa2.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9269537171/" title="IMG_4053 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4053" height="500" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2826/9269537171_b4b4afe2d6.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9269531321/" title="IMG_4041 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4041" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7327/9269531321_ea3e7ff96f.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9269538671/" title="IMG_4054 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4054" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7355/9269538671_7167832cca.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9269541217/" title="IMG_4062 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4062" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3821/9269541217_7f91a23a35.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9269540029/" title="IMG_4059 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4059" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7287/9269540029_d1ca62f740.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br />After lunch in the park we took a bus to the Chagall Museum. Most impressive was the first room you enter, where they had the entire series of (very large) biblical paintings that Chagall originally did as a series for a chapel in Vence.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9269544659/" title="IMG_4066 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4066" height="500" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2834/9269544659_5e774b02b7.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9272329594/" title="IMG_4073 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4073" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3706/9272329594_d76bdaf988.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9269546129/" title="IMG_4067 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4067" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3669/9269546129_c376421824.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9269548667/" title="IMG_4093 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4093" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7386/9269548667_64f4a61a3b.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br />As always, David's pictures of the day are <i>amazing</i>. See them <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theory/sets/72157634594907111/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br /><br /><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/2A0ch7si3u4" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com0http://blog.strongrrl.com/2013/07/nice-day-2.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-80789336866718421732013-07-11T13:57:00.000-07:002013-07-11T13:57:36.124-07:00Nice, day 1<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9262381455/" title="IMG_3974 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3974" height="375" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2864/9262381455_9b52e7cef5.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br />We have made an art pilgrimage. The amount of 20th century modern art in the south of France is astounding, and of course, that is that. Originally I had planned for 3 days in Nice, but it was immediately obvious that that wasn't nearly enough time, so we're staying for 5.<br /><br />The highlight of our first day here was the Matisse Museum and nearby monastery grounds. There is so much beauty here — between the art, the architecture, and the gardens — that it's truly overwhelming. I do wish it wasn't quite so hot out, as it really makes it hard to stay and appreciate all that there is to see outside. We Portlanders are finding it a bit intense.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9265166800/" title="IMG_3977 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3977" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7400/9265166800_a7cf26e7f1.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9265175692/" title="IMG_3985 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3985" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3693/9265175692_86f0ce5101.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9265184644/" title="IMG_3989 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3989" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3711/9265184644_71b2e34eee.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9262423675/" title="IMG_3990 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3990" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7325/9262423675_73afa5411c.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9265205466/" title="IMG_3992 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3992" height="500" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5451/9265205466_788ef473f5.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9262441877/" title="IMG_3994 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3994" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7358/9262441877_a5de549f54.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Around 5pm we headed down to the beach to try and cool off a bit. The beach is pretty uncomfortable here, as it's all rock, but the stones are beautiful and bring out the OCD in me just as much as a good shell beach! Anna and I also discovered that the beach is full of tiny pieces of beach glass, which we started collecting. I'm pretty sure the locals thought we were totally insane!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9262672219/" title="IMG_4033 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4033" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3814/9262672219_c41c1537df.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9262450339/" title="IMG_4000 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4000" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7381/9262450339_f245f45893.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Apparently Nice is also famous for it's annual Jazz festival, which happens to be going on right now. Walking back to our apartment* after dinner we ran smack into crowds of folks standing outside the barricades listening to the performance. Turns out it was John Legend, so we stuck around for a few songs (I enjoyed it, though neither David nor Anna were impressed).<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9262456427/" title="IMG_4017 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4017" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7439/9262456427_cabd49f9d1.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9265242568/" title="IMG_4020 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_4020" height="347" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3765/9265242568_fe9cd352e7.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><i>*To call where we're staying an apartment is a gross overstatement. Gross. Overstatement. But ok. Art. And the Med. :-)</i><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/3OhkF10K7-E" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com0http://blog.strongrrl.com/2013/07/nice-day-1.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-21838392111218320252013-07-08T07:00:00.001-07:002013-07-08T07:01:02.547-07:00Windows and doors (the Arles edition)<br />I always find it interesting to see the difference in what&nbsp;<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theory" target="_blank">David</a>,&nbsp;<a href="http://through-annas-eyes.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Anna</a>, and I choose to photograph. Time after time I find myself drawn to the windows and doors here. The colors; the layers upon layers of old, peeling paint; the texture of old wood on stone; invariably I am drawn to these.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9240305468/" title="IMG_3949 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3949" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7416/9240305468_931632ffe4.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9237537397/" title="IMG_3950 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3950" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7403/9237537397_a6b17c4531.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9240292432/" title="IMG_3944 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3944" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3747/9240292432_cd23afb8f3.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9237503803/" title="IMG_3940 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3940" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7448/9237503803_52db50b20d.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9240271734/" title="IMG_3871 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3871" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3737/9240271734_0a6a87a935.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9240225956/" title="IMG_3778 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3778" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3723/9240225956_1bd9d143b2.jpg" width="386" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9240256152/" title="IMG_3852 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3852" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7305/9240256152_354c691d34.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9237457143/" title="IMG_3804 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3804" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3760/9237457143_fdc3557a84.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9240246620/" title="IMG_3808 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3808" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3798/9240246620_2f5d08abc5.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9237439321/" title="IMG_3776 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3776" height="398" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2879/9237439321_170d35d7ca.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9240212498/" title="IMG_3768 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3768" height="500" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2841/9240212498_bc3a17c8f7.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9237426815/" title="IMG_3767 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3767" height="368" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5501/9237426815_4d5ef6209b.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9240198782/" title="IMG_3765 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3765" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7320/9240198782_06be159e37.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9237410035/" title="IMG_3760 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3760" height="343" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3685/9237410035_3d118035fa.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/DTfxz1lc5oE" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com0http://blog.strongrrl.com/2013/07/windows-and-doors-arles-edition.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-21278986096877079712013-07-06T12:47:00.000-07:002013-07-06T12:47:00.965-07:00La plage<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9225222884/" title="IMG_3912 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3912" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7445/9225222884_e986a4aa7b.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br />About 30 minutes from our home in Arles is a sweet little beach town called <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer" target="_blank">Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer</a>. Given the current heat wave, we decided to make a break for it on Friday and see if we could avoid the weekend crowds.<br /><br />I personally fell in love with this beach. We found an area that was somewhat protected from the wind (the mistral) and spent a few hours building an amazing sand castle, searching for shells, and occasionally splashing around in the surprisingly cold water.<br /><br />There is some interesting history to Saintes-Maries, which results in pilgrimages a couple times a year, but the town itself is really touristy. We did find an amazing beachside restaurant where we had the best moules-frites we've ever had in our lives.<br /><br />While my photos capture my experience of the day, <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theory/sets/72157634501430644/" target="_blank">David's photos</a> are not to be missed (plus he got great pics of the turtle invasion at the sand castle!).<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9222434803/" title="IMG_3882 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3882" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5541/9222434803_f7e67574f9.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9222436329/" title="IMG_3889 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3889" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5458/9222436329_10fc625af1.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9225214926/" title="IMG_3891 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3891" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3818/9225214926_da612f8f26.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9222439585/" title="IMG_3896 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3896" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5548/9222439585_653594b5df.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9222441169/" title="IMG_3897 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3897" height="500" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5324/9222441169_f4c03fce0c.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9222433119/" title="IMG_3881 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3881" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5455/9222433119_fb04f9e0d3.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9222442461/" title="IMG_3903 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3903" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3665/9222442461_978172af87.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9222444459/" title="IMG_3906 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3906" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3792/9222444459_605e50b6ca.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9225224360/" title="IMG_3913 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3913" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5326/9225224360_a13a7d0ec2.jpg" width="500" /></a><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/b50sh47rWgo" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com1http://blog.strongrrl.com/2013/07/la-plage.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-13958693049290126522013-07-05T12:06:00.003-07:002013-07-05T12:35:48.502-07:00La Roquette<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9217756320/" title="IMG_3876 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3876" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5498/9217756320_850fdc52c4.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br />Right now there's a huge photography festival happening in Arles. All over town, museums, churches, and all sorts of public places have become temporary galleries. At night, sheets are hung from the walls and photos are projected onto them.<br /><br />Our new friends Peter, Nathalie, and Eliot invited us to join them for an evening of festivities in a section of town called La Roquette. Because we had Anna with us, our evening ended just when things were heating up, but we had a great time until then. Another friend of theirs, Nina, was performing. She covered a lot of great songs, from&nbsp;Radiohead to&nbsp;Neil Young to Portishead.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9217742170/" title="IMG_3835 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3835" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7428/9217742170_921c7c2166.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9214969229/" title="IMG_3837 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3837" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3805/9214969229_860858926b.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />Les Images sont a la Roquette (The pictures are at La Roquette).<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9214962023/" title="IMG_3821 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3821" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3681/9214962023_6bd70a5398.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />The lovely Nathalie.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9217730490/" title="IMG_3806 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3806" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3762/9217730490_e9ed8345e5.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />At the bar.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9214963349/" title="IMG_3828 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3828" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7458/9214963349_9c5e7571ba.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />Eliot et la flamant rose (Eliot and the flamingo).<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9214964697/" title="IMG_3830 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3830" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7438/9214964697_c716d2d0de.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />Every year 10,000 flamingos come to the Camargue. I'm guessing this isn't one of them, but perhaps he's a fan?<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9214966069/" title="IMG_3831 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3831" height="375" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5548/9214966069_68fdbc8df3.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9214959847/" title="IMG_3819 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3819" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3693/9214959847_32a43b5458.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />Little, tiny photos tied to a grate.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9214970937/" title="IMG_3849 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3849" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3786/9214970937_0c73854173.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />Yet another reason to love France — wine for $2 a glass (decent wine, for that matter!).<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9214979047/" title="IMG_3873 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3873" height="500" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5512/9214979047_cbb4c35cdd.jpg" width="368" /></a><br />The man on the left is walking around with photos concealed under flaps on his sandwich board. The man on the right was cooking dinner and came out to have a look.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9214975729/" title="IMG_3862 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3862" height="500" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5498/9214975729_ffa999cd9f.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />Only a French man can get away with this.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9214957125/" title="IMG_3807 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3807" height="500" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2819/9214957125_6003222704.jpg" width="329" /></a><br />Or this.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9214958563/" title="IMG_3809 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3809" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7303/9214958563_2cc1418e09.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />Checking out the action.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9217748618/" title="IMG_3854 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3854" height="375" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2837/9217748618_7a43647cb2.jpg" width="500" /></a><br />Nina, la chanteuse.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9214972611/" title="IMG_3850 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3850" height="500" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5533/9214972611_cf222a629b.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />A bed, on a purple carpet, in the middle of the square for resting on (or under) while enjoying the festivities.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9214977553/" title="IMG_3863 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3863" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3674/9214977553_15f867340f.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />This bar comes to you.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9214980475/" title="IMG_3875 by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_3875" height="500" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7323/9214980475_4697a117e6.jpg" width="375" /></a><br />Selfie with the girl.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/M2XV7ultR2Y" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com0http://blog.strongrrl.com/2013/07/la-roquette.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-48855686386988497192013-07-04T00:00:00.000-07:002013-07-04T06:43:02.227-07:00True Love<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9204084898/" title="IMG_5019.JPG by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="IMG_5019.JPG" height="392" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2840/9204084898_c7251c5e76.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br />When Anna was a baby, my Dad would drive up from Eugene almost every week and take the two of us out to lunch. Anna would watch for him through the living room window, patiently waiting for his arrival.<br /><br />He'd pull up in front of the house around noon and their special game would begin. Getting out of his car, he'd do an exaggerated tip-toe from bush to bush, pretending to hide from Anna while she got more and more excited inside. Eventually he'd pop up directly in front of her, on the other side of the window. She'd laugh and run to the door to meet him. He'd plop down on the couch and the two of them would begin an embrace that sometimes lasted for ten minutes. I've never seen her do that with anyone else, myself included.<br /><br />Of course I think about my dad all the time, but the two times a year that I post about him (July 4 and December 5) are especially difficult. Looking through all the photos, waiting to see what memory jumps out at me, makes the loss so palpable. All the weeks without those lunches, all the years without…him.<br /><br />My father died 6 years ago today.<br /><br />I miss you, Dad.<img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/Pf5_TRgWzvo" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com0http://blog.strongrrl.com/2013/07/true-love.htmltag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9213091601065275584.post-88346792972878611852013-07-01T13:16:00.001-07:002013-07-01T13:16:50.347-07:00I love a good necropolis<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9187257632/" title="Untitled by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="Untitled" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7344/9187257632_dd247c1969.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I've <a href="http://blog.strongrrl.com/2009/07/remembering.html" target="_blank">written before</a> about the days I spent&nbsp;with my dad,&nbsp;traveling around the country in a Dodge van during summers in the 1970s. What I don't think I've mentioned is that we loved to stop at old cemeteries and look at the gravestones and mausoleums. We'd read the names and dates inscribed, and speculate about the people whose lives (or deaths) we were glimpsing.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Yesterday Anna, David and I went to <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alyscamps" target="_blank">Les Alyscamps</a></i>, a Roman necropolis that was used for 1500 years. From wikipedia:</span><br /><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">“Roman cities traditionally forbade burials within the city limits. It was therefore common for the roads immediately outside a city to be lined with tombs and mausoleums; the&nbsp;</span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Appian_Way" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-decoration: none;" title="Appian Way">Appian Way</a><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">&nbsp;outside&nbsp;</span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rome" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-decoration: none;" title="Rome">Rome</a><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">&nbsp;provides a good example. The Alyscamps was Arles' main burial ground for nearly 1,500&nbsp;years. It was the final segment of the&nbsp;</span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aurelian_Way" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-decoration: none;" title="Aurelian Way">Aurelian Way</a><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">&nbsp;leading up to the city gates and was used as a burial ground for well-off citizens, whose memorials ranged from simple&nbsp;</span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sarcophagus" style="background-color: white; background-image: none; color: #0b0080; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; text-decoration: none;" title="Sarcophagus">sarcophagi</a><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">&nbsp;to elaborate monuments.”</span></span><br /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">Anna had a great time climbing and playing on the ruins until we entered the earily dark&nbsp;</span><span style="line-height: 19px;">chapel. It was made especially creepy by some&nbsp;experiments that were being conducted involving pouring fog into the place. That, combined with the noises the resident pigeons were making, was enough for her to tear out of the place vowing never to return!</span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9184794371/" title="Untitled by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="Untitled" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3826/9184794371_f16082f140.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9187244158/" title="Untitled by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="Untitled" height="500" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2856/9187244158_88898a51e0.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9184802859/" title="Untitled by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="Untitled" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3694/9184802859_99b6e40bcc.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9184807275/" title="Untitled by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="Untitled" height="375" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2808/9184807275_33e7ec9b89.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9187250552/" title="Untitled by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="Untitled" height="500" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3674/9187250552_81253f0aba.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9187255232/" title="Untitled by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="Untitled" height="500" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5346/9187255232_f140ba4f36.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9187256706/" title="Untitled by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="Untitled" height="500" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5482/9187256706_1e5bfdd43c.jpg" width="375" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9184814487/" title="Untitled by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="Untitled" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3781/9184814487_7a5ffbe90c.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9187260134/" title="Untitled by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="Untitled" height="375" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7320/9187260134_109f0f4ddd.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9187261344/" title="Untitled by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="Untitled" height="375" src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3806/9187261344_894c11831a.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/strongrrl/9187262830/" title="Untitled by Strongrrl, on Flickr"><img alt="Untitled" height="375" src="http://farm3.staticflickr.com/2891/9187262830_4702aa7c7d.jpg" width="500" /></a><br /><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span><br /><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/strongrrl/~4/1VdDVKnM1-k" height="1" width="1" alt=""/>Strongrrlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03609622826471238263noreply@blogger.com0http://blog.strongrrl.com/2013/07/i-love-good-necropolis.html